Re: Thank you Le Mouchoir de Monsieur

Originally Posted by le mouchoir de monsieur

Such a lovely thing to say, and certainly I am at a loss to respond coherently. Very early on in my involvements with BN, back in the day when a whole group of us were writing the "Why?" chronicles, one of its initial contributors cornered me privately on PM and became quite aggressively unkind. I remember how shocked I was that "someone" -- "somewhere" had seen fit to address accusatory words to me regarding my involvements with BN. I remember when this discussion heated up: Surely you've all pieced together by now that I love a debate, she seethed and spattered and demanded to know why it was that I should contribute to BN--as she put it: "Why are you on basenotes really?" It was at that point that I knew there was some kind of misunderstanding. She had challenged me to a kind of duel publicly, on a thread, then, convinced I suppose there was no point in pursuing this publicly, she took to wielding her ires and frustrations in vicious PM's. To this day I still can't quite sort what it was that motivated her behaviour. Saripatates lends me the answer I should have served up to her back then in his comments above: I am on BN to exchange ideas with others, and in so doing become complete, and more confident, in my own. More concisely, are we not all here merely to share insights and observations, knowing as we do that a common bond of interest unites us all? I think it would be a wise thing that we all keep this in mind, that each one of us here is the teacher and the pupil of all the others: With BN each of us automatically inherits millions of trusted mentors, as do we each an equal number of trusting students. I myself am always happy and willing to be both, sometimes simultaneously. One of my best BN cohorts, As I am blessed with quite a few, taught me how to insert my new "signature," which you will see below. Another taught me so many things, many of which I could be banned for describing here. Still another got me on a fourteen hour flight across the world, to show me what it is like to sleep, and to wake up in a tent: Something I had never done. Every one of us has special insights and knowledge that only we possess; when we die, it's as if a whole library burns to the ground, reduced to nothing...nothing but ASH. So a full year later, I have that response--"Why am I on Basenotes really?"--Answer: To share, to learn, to distract, and to be distracted. From answer to question go I, fan that I am of Lewis Carroll and reverse-logic: You, who are all now on Basenotes, do you like my new signature?

Re: Thank you Le Mouchoir de Monsieur

Re: Thank you Le Mouchoir de Monsieur

Mouchoir de Monsieur, these boards have certainly been enriched by your writings, I've enjoyed them very much. I'm interested to know though, what were your impressions of sleeping and waking in a tent? Wishing you a speedy recovery!

Re: Thank you Le Mouchoir de Monsieur

Had the distinct pleasure of testing Blenheim Bouquet in Tangs (Big Noodle) recently, definitely top draw and refreshing. Can't afford it though, but it doesn't matter I can read Le Mouchoir, and I do so very appreciatively.

Re: Thank you Le Mouchoir de Monsieur

Originally Posted by le mouchoir de monsieur

Now, you, I challenge you to apply this kind of self analysis to yourself. If you are earnest in your approach to it, you will have your answer. The fact that "Arpege" was created for women should not factor into your internal discussion.

I couldn't agree more. I'm a straight woman, and several "masculines" and most unisex fragrances really mesh with my inner being much easier than a lot of the "feminines" - so much so I can't even relate much to the female side of this board. I try to wear "feminines" but its like jamming my feet into someone else's shoes. The way you feel about Jicky, is similar to what I felt like when I tried Amouage Tribute. I was like coming home ... like my inner being found the right lego that fits with it. It smells like ash trays and I don't smoke and I hate cigerettes, yet Tribute just fits me. It's a little bit butch, but its also soothing for the soul.

My bf can wear all kinds of "feminines" that I can not. He doesn't know anything about fragrance, I just try things on him, and if they work, then they work. So he unknowingly is going about his day all the time wearing big florals yet he smells "right." In fact he goes to his carpenter job wearing plaid shirts and fragrances such as: Carnal Flower, Carillon pour un ange, Honour Woman ... and he just smells fresh and clean after a shower. When I try to wear those, I feel like Tootsie.

Re: Thank you Le Mouchoir de Monsieur

Here we are in another year, another time, and I, myself, find again that I am suffering from yet another case of something, something different, I imagine, though as it pans out I am inexplicably bound in the very same bed. It is embarrassing to admit, embarrassing, that is, to my own self, just how many hours in a day I can spend exploring Basenotes when I am assigned the dreaded "Bed Rest." Recently, I had the pleasure of a kind PM by koalawho tells me that he, too, is down with the confounded bronchite, this loathsome affliction that is a recurrent, unwelcome visitor in my house: The only thing good about her is her "Hostess Gift." My perfume du jour is Codeine. So, bored as I am, I remembered this thread: Currently, I am meant to be piloting my own: Who knew that on BN we could have our own airline? (AIR MDM, Where every flight is a flight of fancy) At any rate, in re-reading it I see that a question was addressed to me, and I, who knows how, neglected to answer it, and it was a juicy one! It went this way: "How did you find the experience of sleeping in a tent?" Ah! Yes. It is true that, upon getting to know a fellow BN contributor on PM, the course of our written discussion brought us very naturally far, far away from perfumes, and seemed to want to focus on life in general. In the midst of these exchanges, it came to light that I had never slept in a tent, nor had ever I gone camping, and that the closest I had come to an experience such as that was getting locked in to Pere Lachaise Cemetery and having to spend the night hiding in one of the many crypts that have been vandalized over the years for fear of crossing paths with the guard dogs, which are trained to attack, that roam the cemetery after hours. So it came to pass that, on a dare, last June, I boarded a fourteen hour flight that took me well across the world, with only a small backpack, and not my usual trunks of clothes and toiletries. Three days after my arrival, I was in a tent, with someone who, for intents and purposes, I had never before met. I think that, of all the things that I have done on a whim, this experience may very well make the list of top ten most magical. So out of my element was I, it felt as if I had not just left my home, left my adopted country, but also left the planet: The most enchanting thing was that, the new one where I landed was so beautiful, and so full of surprises, that, even though while it was happening I was nervous and felt somewhat overwhelmed, looking back on it I must fight back tears as a wave of nostalgia flows right over me, and threatens to take me with it...back to this place where I have to my name only one pair of jeans, and I am wearing them, and not much else: The rest of my earthly possessions turned momentarily into a pillow upon which to rest my head, and my home: My home, previously of stone, is made of nylon, and is luminescent with every shade of light the world will shed in the height of June. It was beautiful. Cathartic: I am, since then, very distinctly not the same person. I remember how, when it began to rain, I and my BN "virtual friend," now real, and in flesh and blood, were inside our tent, which was barely large enough to contain me in all my length, she whispered to me that, "the trick is, to not touch the walls of the tent. If you do that, the water will come through" at which point she took my hand, and brushed it up against the wall of cloth, which caused a tiny thread of water to run down my arm. Every raindrop made a tiny sound that, when heard with all the others, combined with rushes of wind through full blown leaves, was that of a symphony, more beautiful than any I had previously heard. And the mornings! When morning came...each time it brought with it a kind of wonder...and a palpable thankfulness that all my life had previously escaped me: The Morning is a gift most precious. Sunny, wet, grey, cold, every dawn is a promise. Who would ever imagine that having an overblown fancy of perfume could bring about such epiphanies? In short, Ozjon701, it was an unforgettable experience that shall live within me until I die, and perhaps, beyond: I wish the same unto all you readers out there. Someone I had never met sent out an unseemly dare. I took her up on it, and now, in large part thanks to what she showed me, a world I had never seen, everything is different. to all best wishes, le MdM